


Dazed and Distracted

by Emily_F6



Series: Peter Parker Prompts [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26327968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: Prompt: Peter gets meningitis
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Peter Parker Prompts [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866505
Comments: 8
Kudos: 270





	Dazed and Distracted

**Prompt: Peter gets meningitis**

Tony should have known. As he sat in one of the plastic chairs in the medbay, his head in his shaking hands, he cursed himself for not paying attention. For being so absorbed in his own work that he hadn't even noticed that Peter had been acting strange all day, ever since the first moment he'd walked through the door to the compound. It had been obvious if he'd only been paying attention. But he'd had a new Stark Phone to finish and in hindsight, he'd thought that maybe he shouldn't have invited Peter over for that particular weekend...or that he should have postponed. Because Pepper had given him a very firm deadline of Monday morning, and Peter had arrived on Friday night.

"Hey, Pete," he'd greeted, trying not to look as exhausted as he'd felt. Trying to be at least somewhat present. Peter had grinned, dropping his backpack by the sofa in its usual place. And Tony had taken a moment to smile at the fact that Peter's backpack had a usual place. "You want to get some dinner before we head down to the lab?"

Peter had shaken his head. "Nah. I'm not really hungry."

There. That right there. That should have been warning sign number one! Because Peter Parker was always hungry. Not once had that boy come to the compound and not been practically drooling at the suggestion of dinner. But Tony...Tony had been glad. Because Tony had wanted to get down to the lab as soon as possible so that he could get started. So he'd promised himself that they'd work for a few hours and then he would get Peter some dinner and then they could actually hang out. Do something fun. Maybe, he'd thought as he and Peter had headed downstairs, the boy's hand rubbing at the back of his neck, maybe they could go out for ice cream. A late night trip. It would be fun.

And Peter's hand had come up to his neck once more as they'd stepped out of the elevator. And Tony hadn't noticed. Hadn't paid any attention to the fact that Peter had been grimacing and rubbing his neck. Because he'd been focused only on that stupid phone.

Tony had sat down at his usual workspace, knowing that Peter would make his way to his own usual place. And then...time had passed. Time had flown by and Tony had only been focused on his own work. On that phone. That's all he'd been able to do. Focus on that phone, his brain hyper-focused on that phone and the plans and the blueprints. Because he had a deadline and Pepper had covered her face with her hands when she'd found out that he was over a week behind. Because he didn't want to stress her out.

So hours had passed and before he'd known it, it had been past midnight and he'd jerked his head up from his work, staring at his watch in disbelief before turning to Peter. Peter who hadn't eaten in hours and who he'd completely forgotten about. Peter had been sitting at his own desk, head in his hands, drooped over blueprints of his own. And Tony had tried to sound casual and not guilty and horrified at himself.

"Woah, kiddo. It's late. Guess we got wrapped up...in our work…" he'd trailed off, approaching Peter and staring in surprise at the blueprints and the webshooters that, as far as he could tell, had barely been touched. "Pete?"

"Huh?" the boy had asked, looking up with bleary, confused eyes.

Why hadn't Tony asked then? Why hadn't he dragged the boy to the medbay, just to check? Just to make sure that he was okay? Because that wasn't Peter. Not even tired Peter. Not even exhausted Peter! Peter was all sharp eyes shining with intelligence and focus, even when he was exhausted. Even when they had stayed in the lab long past his bedtime.

"Tony?" The question shook him out of his thoughts, and Tony looked up to find Pepper standing in front of him, dressed in a blazer and skirt and high heels, looking as though she'd come straight from the boardroom. He stood, opening his arms, and she held him close. She placed a hand on the back of his head, resting her cheek on his head, the heels giving her several inches on him. "Is he…"

"He's with Helen."

"Has she said anything yet?"

Tony just shook his head and shut his eyes as tightly as he could, willing the tears back. Peter would be fine. He had to be fine. Pepper sat down beside him, clutching his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder as they waited. And waited. Surely, Tony thought, Helen would update him soon.

"You ready to eat something?" That's what Tony had asked. Not 'are you feeling okay' or 'why didn't you get any work done' or 'why do you keep rubbing your neck and closing your eyes and wincing like you're in pain?' No. Instead, Tony had asked if he was hungry.

"Can I just go to bed? I'm really tired."

"Sure, kiddo. Sorry I lost track of time."

And Peter had given him a brief smile, assured him that it was okay, and had gone to bed.

Rhodey was the next to come down to the medbay, dropping into a chair next to Tony and crossing his arms. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"

"No," Tony bit out, not meeting his friend's eyes. And for a moment, Rhodey had been silent. Then, when he'd spoken, his voice had been soft.

"I thought the kid couldn't get sick."

"So did I."

"Well...he's...he's going to be fine...right?"

All Tony could do was nod. Because surely Rhodey was right. He had to be. Peter had to be okay.

The next morning, Tony had gone into Peter's room, surprised that the kid was still in bed after 10. Not that he didn't understand the concept of teenagers and how prone they were to sleeping in. But he also knew Peter, and Peter never slept in. Not at the compound. But even as he'd gone into Peter's room, his mind had been on that phone. On the final problem he needed to solve before it was done. "Hey, kid. You gonna sleep all day?" he'd asked, peering into the dark room. Peter had groaned, and Tony had taken another step into the bedroom. "Pete?"

"Huh?"

"It's almost eleven. Aren't you starving?" he'd asked, voice light.

Peter had sat up then, rubbing a hand over his head and grimacing, and finally, finally Tony had asked. "Pete? You good?"

"Oh...uh, yeah. I'm fine."

And like an idiot, Tony had believed him. Had urged him to get up and eat something.

Peter had followed him into the kitchen for breakfast, flinching at the bright light and picking at his waffles. "When you're done eating, you want to head back down to the lab?"

The kid had hesitated, staring down at his food for a moment before speaking. "I, uh...actually, my head kind of hurts. Would it be okay if I laid down for a minute?"

Reaching out, Tony had pressed his hand to Peter's forehead, only to find it a little warm. And that's when the idea had come to him. "Yeah, Pete. Of course I've got a thing I need to finish up real quick down in the lab. You mind if I run down and get that wrapped up while you lay down? Then the rest of the day, I'm all yours."

And of course, Peter had nodded. Had smiled and assured Tony that he would be fine on his own. And, after handing the kid a bottle of his super pain pills. Tony had gone back downstairs to his stupid fucking phone.

It had been an hour later that he'd come upstairs. He'd worked as quickly as he could, focusing only on the phone and pushing all thoughts of Peter from his mind, even the nagging thoughts that Peter had been kind of pale...that he'd been quiet since arriving at the compound. That he'd looked almost sick that morning. Those thoughts had all been shoved away while Tony had worked and then finally, finally, it had been done.

Tony had hurried back to the penthouse, looking around the kitchen only to find the plate of half-eaten waffles still on the table next to the bottle of pills. Frowning, he'd looked around once more, but hadn't been able to find Peter. "Kid?" he'd called. He hadn't been angry...just confused. Peter never left dirty dishes laying around. Never. At least, not at the compound. "Fri, where's Peter?"

"Peter went to the bathroom thirty minutes ago and has not returned."

"What?" That's when the alarm had gone off...when his brain had started putting together the pieces that he'd been too busy to actually take note of. How quiet Peter had been. How he hadn't been hungry. How he hadn't gotten any work done. The headache. All of it had started to come together in a picture that made Tony feel sick to his stomach. "What didn't you tell me?"

"You initiated the Do Not Disturb protocol yesterday before Peter arrived and have not disabled it."

"Disable it!" Tony had snapped, racing toward the hall bathroom. "Forever! That protocol doesn't apply to Peter! Peter?" he had called, wrapping his knuckles against the door. "You okay?" There hadn't been an answer, and he'd pounded on the door again. "Peter!" Nothing. "Friday, unlock this door!"

Silently, the AI had done as he'd ordered, and the door had unlocked with a soft click, Tony being sure to open it carefully, and when he saw Peter, he was glad. The boy was on the ground, head resting on the wall, eyes hazy and unfocused as Tony dropped to his knees beside him.

"Pete? Hey, look at me!" he'd urged, touching his chin and tilting Peter's head so that he faced him. "Peter?"

"Ben?" The word had shocked Tony, as if he'd been doused in a tub full of cold water. And then Peter had blinked from his place on the bathroom floor, narrowing his eyes. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah, buddy. What are you doing on the floor? I can't remember the last time I mopped in here."

He was babbling. He mopped this floor every week. Pepper cleaned the kitchen, he cleaned the bathroom. And Peter knew that because he'd been over on chore day, and he'd offered to chip in, running the vacuum and dusting the living room.

"I...I don't know. My head hurts...Mr. Stark...and my neck...I feel weird…"

"Okay...okay, well, how about we get you off the floor and figure out what's wrong, huh?" Tony had forced his voice to stay light and casual while his chest had felt like it was caving in. He had put an arm around Peter when he'd seen it...a red smear on the wall. "Did...Pete, did you fall?"

"I don't know," the boy had murmured, eyes drifting shut, and Tony had moved fast, slipping an arm around Peter's shoulder and wincing at the heat coming off of him. He had also been making a mental note to reprogram Friday when it came to Peter.

Tony had helped the boy half stumble back into the living room, setting him down on the sofa. "Alright, how about I grab you that super-Advil and…"

And then the boy had been falling, slamming into the floor before Tony could catch him, eyes rolling back, limbs jerking, and although Tony's mind had been blank, his body had lunged to catch the boy, getting him onto his side while staring, open-mouthed as the seizing child on the ground jerked and grunted. "Okay…" he had whispered, voice hoarse. "Pete, you're...you're okay. I'm right here. Just…hold on, buddy. Um...Friday! Friday, get Helen. Send his stats. Time the seizure." He had barked ordered, barely aware of what he was saying as the boy had continued to seize on the ground.

Helen had arrived only minutes later as Peter had started to still, eyes still shut. "I'm here. Buddy, I'm right here. I've got you." Those had been Tony's last words to Peter before a nurse had lifted him onto a gurney, careful of his head, and Helen had had him wheeled away.

"Tony?" Helen's voice brought him back to the present once more, and he stared at her unseeing for a moment before Pepper squeezed his hand.

"Is he okay?"

"I did a blood test and spinal tap...it took two tries. He's dehydrated. But we got the results back. Bacterial meningitis."

"How...how would he have…" Tony started, but Helen kept talking.

"I believe his body was fighting off a case of strep and the bacteria spread. I have him on antibiotics and fluids. We've got him set up in a bed if you want to see him."

Tony nodded. "Yeah...yeah. I...Pep, can you...I didn't call his aunt yet and…"

"I'll call May. Happy can pick her up and bring her over." She squeezed his hand, and Rhodey stood as well, patting him on the shoulder.

"I'll get the kid some clothes from his room."

"Thanks platypus."

Peter was laying in a white hospital bed, a sheet and a blanket pulled up to his chest, a tube disappearing into his arm. Tony didn't hesitate, taking the chair by the kid's side and resting a hand on his forehead. Much cooler, but not quite normal yet. "Hey, bud. So...uh...turns out you can get sick like the rest of us mere mortals. Sucks, huh." Peter didn't answer, but Tony wasn't in any rush. He had all night to spend with his kid.

After all, he thought wryly, the phone was done.


End file.
